Stolen Moments
by SAsrSA
Summary: A collection of HaymitchxKatniss one-shots. Rated M for later updates.
1. Drunken Want

Haymitch saved Katniss, but left Peeta behind to the capitol. He was slaughtered, and now they must learn to deal with their loss.

* * *

She stomps her way into the house, slamming the heavy door behind her. Haymitch had long since stopped locking his entrance, and she didn't feel the need to knock. There weren't many people in District 13 who would wish him harm, and besides, he'd likely welcome it. Shaking snow out of her hair, she strolls down the filthy hallway, past bags of trash and old food, and goes into the kitchen.

Haymitch is sprawled across the tile floor, his tangled head laying on an old cardboard box, crushed flat. His face is red and an empty bottle lies beside him, and though he appears unconscious, he lifts his head when Katniss walks in.

"Back again, sweetheart?" He asks blearily, hauling his drunken form into a sitting position. She glares weakly at him and but otherwise doesn't comment as she walks over to the counter. _Of course I'm back, you idiot,_ she thinks. _Where else would I go_? She digs through a pile of empty liquor bottles until she finds one, half full, and flops down on the floor with a sigh.

"No 'hello Haymitch, thank you for the wine?'" Haymitch responds. She smiles a little as she rips the cap off the bottle and takes a deep gulp, wincing hard at the taste. The liqour is bitter and crudely made but it does it's job well, blocking memories of screaming children and a beautiful, loving young man from her mind.

"Hello, Haymitch."

"That's the spirit." Haymitch's house smells like rotting food and long-forgotten garbage. But it's more like home now than her own. Her own, where her sister and mom hover around her, nervous of her next breakdown. Home, where her family tries to comfort and coddle her, but it only causes her so much more pain. Where Gale holds Madge and tries not to look at her. District thirteen can never be a real home to her.

" I don't know how I lost it all at once." Katniss admits, nursing her bottle. She remembers the sunset, remembers Peeta walking away, and her eyes start to burn.

"I don't know if I'd call it 'all', honey." Haymitch says, as he begins another bottle of his own.

"Then what would you call it?" She snaps, but then regrets it. Haymitch doesn't mean her any harm. He never has, really.

"Your boyfriends." Or maybe he does, because that comment sparks a rage in her, and she stumbles to her feet. Liquor splashes on the floor and dampens Haymitch's outstretched feet.

" Damn you, Haymitch, what do you know of it!" She snarls. He blinks blandly up at her past glazed eyes.

"Quiet a lot, girl, we all lost Peeta," He retorts, feeling resentful. "And it's not like Gale is such a secret." The anger leaves her instantly, like the mad rage had never been there in the first place, and she slumps back to the floor. Of course Gale isn't a secret. He hardly tries to hide it, does he? As if he's happy that Katniss can finally watch him love someone else, finally be the one to sit on the sidelines and cry. She stares, broken hearted, at the dark room, with no windows or natural light or pictures of _him_, and is happy, for once, that Haymitch doesn't want to remember either.

"Gale wont even look at me." Katniss finally whispers, feeling the need to say something, tell someone.

"I know." He says quietly

So they sit in silence for a while, and before too long, with the alcohol in her system and memories of Rue and Peeta and Gale and all the champions who died takes it's toll and tears slide down her face, because she knows that it's her fault _he's_ gone, her fault because she couldn't save him.

There's a faint sigh, and a russle of frabic as Haymitch stands and walks over to her, collapsing in a heap against the counter edge with her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she finds herself drawn to his side. He doesn't say anything, but what can he say? And at least he doesn't try to comfort her or pity her, he just shares her pain in silence, and that's what she needs, why she comes every damn day. Like every other day she clings to him, as if he's the last person on the earth who knows her, and he doesn't ever push her away, just lets her cry against his chest in big, silent sobs that stain his ever filthier shirt.

"I'm sorry." He says finally, and she hears his unspoken words, as if he'd said them aloud. _I'm sorry I chose to save you and not him. I'm sorry I __**lied. **_

They sit like that for what feels like forever, her pressed against his torso while he holds her, drinking from his bottle with his free hand. His fingers curl in her hair and he brushes stray strands off her forehead, combing through her locks in smooth, comforting motions. Slowly, her tears cease, but she doesn't move. Sniffling, she tries to bury herself closer, clinging to his chest, her finger nails digging into his collarbone, and he can't help but think that she's the only one who he'll let hold him like this. Katniss' underweight form is pinned against him, and her long, straggled black hair, fallen loose of it's once neat braid, lays across her face. Her breath is warm against his neck, and he leans his head against hers, reveling in the stolen sensation.

Finally, she releases him and sits back, rather embarrassed. He watches her as she reaches around and grabs her bottle, chugging in massive, numbing gulps of the amber liquid. When she sits it back down, he expects her to stand and leave, as is her pattern to do so. To leave after receiving the comfort she so reluctantly asks of him, and which he too willingly gives.

Instead, her eyes seek his out, and she looks at him in a rather critical way. Her gaze traces his long, battle-scarred arms, burning an invisible path down his flat abdomen, his greasey, dirty, _Haymitch _pants and socked feet. He raises his eyebrows, and is about give her a smart-ass remark when she appears to come to a conclusion and returns to his side. She kneels beside him and gives a small, nervous smile, before wedging herself back against him. He stiffens, because this is firm and deliberate and says so much more than every other night, when it's need that draws them together, not want, and he tries to process what to do in his hazy mind. She reaches out tentatively and loops her fingers through his, and he relaxes and gives the tiniest of squeezes, before resting his head back against the wood behind him. She snuggles closer, and is glad no one can see her, the mockingjay, star of the rebellion, puffy-eyed and weak. She nudges his head aside and presses her face against his neck and is very soon taken into a restful sleep.

Haymitch stays awake for awhile. He pulls her closer, sitting his bottle aside and wrapping both arms around her. Katniss whines softly in her sleep and tries to wiggle nearer to him. He smiles, and buries his face against her hair. They fall slowly to their sides and lay like that, her nestled in against his chest, his arms tight and comforting around her as he follows her into sleep.

It'll be many more hours before they awake like that, and then several more before they can convince themselves to move.


	2. Kisses

Katniss knows she shouldn't be kissing him. She understands this. But it doesn't stop her.

Because when Haymitch's arms wrap around her, they're strong and tight, like steel bands that pull her back to earth, and they're so different from Peeta's, and she _needs_ that. When he kisses her, he isn't slow or tentative, he takes all he can and pushes for me, burning her down to her toes with a flaming want that silences all memory of Peeta in its wake.

She knows she should remember him, remember his smile and his laugh, and the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her. She should remember his voice and the caress of his hand, or how beautiful his art was, but she _can't. _She can't because it hurts too bad, and when the food and the drink and the smoke isn't enough, there's Haymitch, and **he** takes it all away.

Sunset drives her back, because that's when she last saw him. Deserts and sweets cause her eyes to burn and she has to run away, shaking with terrible sobs. She can't stand a gentle touch anymore, or pity or sympathy or true love, because those were all his. He was the one afraid to hurt her, and now she can never experience that again, never wants to again.

Haymitch knows this, and he loves her, but it's not pure. It doesn't tear her heart out to feel his love, to have his callused hands on her skin, because he will never be like Peeta. He wont be sensitive or sweet towards her, and she loves that in him, loves that he holds her tight enough to hurt and that pain, at least briefly, is enough to cover the too-real memory of Peeta's arms around her.

Even though she knows she should hate him for doing this to her, when Haymitch buries his face against her neck and whispers, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," over and over again, all she can do is sob and cling tighter, because it's killing him, too.

But, at least, they'll die together.


	3. Nightly Visit

The night before the Champion's interview. Rated M. Very M. Has some typos and misshaps; I have to reread it a few more time to get it how I'd like it.

* * *

Katniss can't sleep.

It's not that they're aren't options to force herself. The avox girl who comes in to clean before nightfall always brings her a pill that feels like sleep syrup and knocks her out just as well. She just can't bring herself to take that little white pill, because every night she does the chemicals lock her body and mind in sleep, where she is forced to relive nightmare after nightmare from the hunger games, unable to wake up.

So, she lays there, in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint rumbling sensation of the train eases her, but even then she can't get her mind to relax. She knows Peeta is in the next room over, and he's likely having the same problem. Seeing images of dying children plastered against his eyelids. Images of those same children killing him.

Cursing, Katniss swings her legs out from underneath the blankets. They land on the floor with a dull thump, and she begins heading for the door. She stops with her hand on the doorknob, looking down at herself. She's only wearing her underclothes. Katniss doesn't stop long though before pushing her way out into the hallway; Peeta's seen her in less.

It's dark, but she can see the ring of light around the edges of one of the two doors on the left. Curious, she walks over to it and touches it gently, surprised when it gives way and opens. Haymitch is laying sprawled out across his bed, one arm behind his head as he watches an old hunger games video; Katniss cringes as she watches Enobaria rip the throat out her fellow tribute, spraying them both with blood. She blinks and tries to backs away, realizing she's interrupting something, but Haymitch stops her. He turns and locks his steel gray eyes with hers, raising an eyebrow.

"Leaving so soon, sweetheart?" He drawls.

"The light was on, I thought…"

"You thought what?" He asks. She shrugs, because really, she doesn't know what she was thinking. He sits up and pats the blanket next to him.

"Come, sit here." He says. Katniss hesitates for a moment before walking towards him. His face is dark with stubble and he has black circles under his eyes. He's wearing a pair of shorts, but no shirt, and his relatively flat abdomen shows a grotesque scar where his intestines had been nearly ripped out. She curls up awkwardly on the edge of the bed, tucking her legs under her and wrapping her arms around her knees. Haymitch is close, and for once he doesn't smell like sweat or alcohol or blood. He must have taken a shower.

"Enobaria you're going to have to watch out for. They're going to let her keep those fangs and sharp points, and I'm sure she'll use them." Haymitch tells her. The video had switched to an image of Brutus snapping the back of another tribute.

"Why are you watching this, Haymitch?" Katniss asks. Haymitch smiles bitterly at her.

"Might as well. Maybe if we can memorize some of how they function- or at least did function- I can help you both stand a better chance." They sit in silence for awhile, and Katniss begins to feel uncomfortable. She doesn't want to watch this.

"They didn't give you a chance to say goodbye to anyone, did they? We couldn't." She doesn't know why she blurts it out, but at least it breaks the quiet. Haymitch gives a small, sarcastic bark of a laugh.

"No, but who is there for me? The only people who matter are right here with me." He replies. Katniss blushes slightly.

"My mom. Madge's mom, maybe." She says. Haymitch looks at her curiously. His arms are dark and scarred and very close to her as he leans towards her.

"We said our goodbyes long ago." He says simply. Katniss nods. She understands.

"What did she mean, when my mother said that it's "happening again?" Katniss asks. Haymitch sighs and casts his gaze around, rather uncomfortably.

"The… rebellions. The crack-down and peacekeepers. The whippings." Haymitch shifts his weight and leans against the headboard. "Many of us died. Some ran away. Most were brought back and slaughtered. Maybe one or two escaped; I don't know." Haymitch stops, as if remembering something, then lapses into silence.

"I wish we'd ran away." Katniss sighs.

A short pause.

"Me, too, Katniss."

There's a loud, audible click as the lock on the door is dropped into place. Katniss doesn't know if they always listen or have a system in place to pick up certain words, but she looks at Haymitch.

"Fuck." She grumbles, and Haymitch grins.

"I guess you're my bed-buddy."

Katniss curses again and hits Haymitch in the chest, pulling away from him to the foot of the bed. He grunts and glares at her, but otherwise doesn't retaliate. The sounds of tearing flesh illicit obnoxiously loudly from the television.

"Would you turn that off." She snaps at Haymitch.

"As you wish, sweetheart." He growls sarcastically, grabbing the remote and pressing a button. The screen blinks to black behind her.

"Thank you."

"Now what do you suggest?" He asks, stretching out.

"We can drink?" She offers. Haymitch snorts.

"I can drink. You have to stand in front of millions tomorrow." Haymitch responds, making Katniss frown worse.

"Why shouldn't I be able to get drunk some more before I die?"

Haymitch looks at her hard, the turns away, his face tight. Katniss glares at him.

"You're saving Peeta, Haymitch. Lay off me this time." She snaps at him. Haymitch turns his gaze on her, and his eyes are burning black.

"I will do what I can to save you both." Haymitch says carefully. Even if he wanted to, he can't tell her of his plans, his hopes of being able to rescue them all from the Arena. The room has already proven to be bugged.

"That's not going to work this year." Katniss says, not understanding his meaning, and Haymitch lets it drop, because he can't say anymore. "Peeta has to live. I know I won't."

"Peeta has to live." Haymitch agrees sadly. Because it's true, Katniss needs Peeta, and whether she wants to or not, they're in this together. Katniss nods, like Haymitch is finally getting it.

"So you'll save Peeta?" She prompts him. He sighs, and it ages him just a little more.

"I will save Peeta."

"Thank you, Hay-" Katniss begins, but Haymitch cuts her off, walking over to the little table and menu.

"What about that wine?"

* * *

Two hours later, after Haymitch complains much about the low-alcohol, fruity wine, both he and Katniss are quite drunk. Him a little less so, with her quite inebriated.

"I'm gonna' drink with you more often, Haymitch." Katniss says, slurring slightly but trying her hardest to act sober. She's failing rather beautifully.

"I'm sure you will." Haymitch says, and he means it, because it's amazing enough that she came away from one Hunger Games without succumbing to some drug or liquid. He knows the girl wont make it through after a second one, or the boy, and the day will come when all three of them will sit around drunk, if they're alive.

"I mean, you act different." She persists. He raises an incredulous eyebrow.

"Katniss, I'm _always_ drunk. You're the one whose different." He says, and she stops for a moment to think that over.

"Oh." She says simply, and he smiles. Katniss had long since hopped off the bed and was bouncing on the balls of her feet around the room. Dark hair clung to her red cheeks, and Haymitch couldn't help but notice, _she's beautiful_. Then he looks away and swallows hard, his eyes slightly more blood-shot, slightly more blurry, because he knows that this beautiful, hurt young woman stands a good chance of dying very soon. Unless he can stop it.

"Haymitch, I'm going to protect Mags in the Arena." Katniss says suddenly, swinging around to face him, hands on her hips. She's breathing hard.

"You told me that." He says, humoring her. To what end would Katniss try to go to protect that poor woman, if he let them form a prior partnership? No, he can not allow it.

"But tell _her _that." Katniss insists. Haymitch sighs and runs a hand down his face. Then again, if he's understanding Finnick right, which is difficult since they can't really talk openly here, he'll protect Mags, and if he's with Katniss they'll end up together anyway…

"She'll come to you." Haymitch says.

"Are you sure?" Katniss asks, looking accusingly at Haymitch.

"Yes." _No, not really, but she might. _Haymitch lays his head back on his pillow, closing his eyes. Really, it is quite comfortable to lay here…

"Let's get some sleep." He says, prompting Katniss to the bed. She stares blankly at him.

"I'm not sleeping there." She says, and Haymitch opens an eye at her in aggravation.

"Then where?" He asks scornfully.

"You'll give me your sheet or blanket and I'm sleeping on the floor." Katniss responds matter-of-factly, standing up and kicking a pair of his pants out of the middle of the floor.

"I only have a blanket, and it's mine." He states. She turns a dark eye on him.

"Then sleep on the floor, and let me have the bed." She growls. His smirk, if possible, widens.

"No. This is my bed. I didn't ask that young girls come crawling into it late at night, and I'm keeping it. No matter how cute said girls may be." He teases. She huffs and blushes and feels overcome by a simple rage at the helpless embarrassment of the situation. Sleeping in a bed with _Haymitch_.

"Fine. I don't need a blanket." She flicks the light switch off and flops down onto the floor, irrationally pissed at the coarseness of the carpet.

"No, you're sleeping up at here." Haymitch says. Katniss lifts her head and can just make out the shape of his head in the dark above her.

"Excuse me?" She says. There's a sound of fabric moving, and then Haymitch is standing right beside her.

"You heard me, up." He says.

"No." She responds. Then adds, "_Why_?"

"Because tomorrow is an important day, princess, and you'll never be ready to meet the capitol after sleeping on a cold floor all night." Haymitch retorts. "Besides, I'm your mentor. You have to."

"You _can not _force me to sleep with you." Katniss says in disbelief.

"No, I can't force you to sleep with me." He grins again, then moves on. "But it seems fully reasonable that when your life and that of your partner's relies on you being a perky, little, _sunshine_, that you'll share a bed, a rather large bed, I might add, with a man your trusting your life with!" He finishes rather harshly. She blinks up at him. Haymitch is… offended?

"No." She finally says, stubbornly.

"Look, sweetheart, I'll force you if I have to." Haymitch braces himself for a retaliatory attack against him, but instead, with a rather angst-y huff, Katniss jumps up and curls onto the very, very edge of the bed. Smiling in satisfaction Haymitch pulls himself onto the bed, crawling over Katniss in the process.

"Are you _trying_ to rape me tonight?" She snaps defensively as his heavy form dips the bed in around her.

"No, honey, you'll know when I'm doing that." He retorts sarcastically, collapsing about a foot away from her in the dark. They lay like that in the silence for awhile, but Katniss can tell by his breathing that he's awake.

"Is the thought of sharing a sleeping arrangement with me so repugnant?" Haymitch finally asks, unusually quiet. Katniss bites back a smart-ass remark, deciding to answer honestly, though it pains her to do so.

"No." Then, "Do you think I'm going to die, Haymitch?" Katniss asks.

"No." And Katniss believes him.

"Do you think Peeta is going to die?" She asks. Her only response is silence. "Haymitch?"

"No." He answers at last.

"Do you even mean that?" She responds, but there's no anger in her voice, no threat. Just defeat and a kind of weariness.

"I don't know, Katniss." Haymitch says. She can feel his breath on her face as she turns towards him, see the dark shadow of his body.

"You promised." She accuses.

"I know, Katniss, I know." He says, sounding very much like he'd rather be talking about anything else.

"Then why can't you tell me th-" But Katniss is cut off as Haymitch lunges forward, capturing her lips in his and pressing closer, trying to do anything- anything- to shut his beautiful, angry, scared girl up.

To his surprise, it works, because Katniss pulls him against her, returning the kiss in full force, because this is a kiss that's her choice to make. Not a kiss that's done for the capitol, or a kiss from a friend that you have to return, at least briefly, _because_ he is your friend. This isn't like kissing Peeta or Gale, because this is the kiss she wants, right now. Haymitch's lips are firm and possessive and when his tongue brushes her lips, her mouth gasps open. He tastes like liquor and salt and spice, and she revels in it, at first tentative, then more willing. When her tongue touches his he makes a noise in the back of his throat, very like a moan, and Katniss is surprised to find she likes the sound. Unlike every other kiss she's had, when Katniss finally has to back up for air, instead of stopping to gauge her reaction, Haymitch trails his lips down her cheekbone, to her neck. He takes what he can, damn the consequences, and when his teeth find a particularly sensitive spot below her ear, her toes curl and she arches into him, whining. He makes a soft sound, and if Katniss could see, she's sure he'd be smirking.

Before she can protest, his lips seek hers out, leaving a burning path where his tongue trailed. He deepens the kiss, trying to claim every part of her mouth, and she only responds more, her hands exploring down his chest, nails tracing old scars and ridges. He lets his hands drift to the bottom of her undershirt, hands stalling on the hem. He looks up at her, and she can see his eyes shining in the dark.

"Katniss?" He asks, wanting her permission. She falters and isn't sure what to say, but when he moves to back away, she clings to his shoulders.

"No! Don't… stop." She says, awkwardly. He smiles, leans his head back down to her ear.

"Okay, Katniss." He whispers, and his breath is warm against her ear and it send tingles down her entire body. His hand slips under shirt, trailing across her flat, quivering abdomen, which he rubs in soothing circles. When she finally relaxes he lets his hand wander higher, all the while murmuring in her ear.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." He says and Katniss gives a faint, nervous laugh.

"Shut up, Haymitch." She says, and he does. His callused hand continues to rise, gently touching soft skin. There's a gasp, and then Katniss is pressing against him. Haymitch lifts the shirt, tugging it, and she obliges, letting him pull it over her head. He stops for a moment, looking at her tangled hair, her eyes bright and anxious and burning in the dark, and stares long enough for her to become nervous.

"Haymitch?" She says. With a feral grin, Haymitch returns to her lips, kissing deeply, before trailing down her neck, to her collarbone. He nuzzles the rise of her breast, leaving soft, sucking kisses down one, then the other, before his teeth graze her nipple. Katniss' breathing speeds up.

She digs her fingers into his hair, pressing eagerly down his neck, to his back, trying to touch more of him. Haymitch trails his hand down her thighs, then back up along the inner side, fingers brushing teasingly against the bottom hem of her under shorts. There's an impatient noise, and Katniss pulls him back up by his hair. He growls, and his teeth claim the junction of her neck and shoulder, and Katniss knows it leaves a mark but she doesn't _care_. As soon as he lets go, she dives for his chest, licking experimentally, leaving a trail of kisses and nips down to his belly button. Haymitch purrs slightly and pushes her back, looping a finger in the waist of her shorts and tugging down. He pulls them nearly half way off, and she wiggles them down the rest a of the way. Katniss sit back and stops, instinctively weary her first time truly nude in this kind of circumstance. This doesn't go unnoticed by Haymitch, and though his hands knead her hips softly, his eyes don't leave hers. She sees his weariness and his love, and the strain of watching people he's meant to save die over and over again, and trusts him, because he doesn't want her in pain.

She's never been comfortable seeing people naked, and this time is no exception. When Haymitch jerks his shorts off, she immediately feels the awkwardness of the situation and ducks her gaze away. Haymitch chuckles and lifts her face, kissing her tenderly. He presses her palms against his navel and smiles, showing dimples that pain has not quite managed to destroy. She takes a shuddering breath, and his mouth returns to hers, just kissing, waiting, and with his teeth leaving pleasurable trails down her neck, she lets her hands glide lower. Her fingers find scarred skin and the smooth flesh that curves around his hips. She only pauses for a moment when her hands touches soft curls, then reaches lower until she finds the soft skin of his half-raised erection. She traces it from head to base, fascinated when it twitches slightly and hardens under of fingers. Haymitch makes a grunting sound and pulls back , moving down the bed to her waist.

He bites and kisses up her inner thigh, , leaving a wet trail that he blows on. Katniss squirms under the sensation.

"Haymitch-" she begins, but Haymitch had found a new way to tempt her, his mouth pressing against her clit. She whines immediately, whimpering and gasping in pleasure as he sucks and licks a trail down to the base of her vagina, the back up. She digs her fingers against his scalp, locking them tight in his black hair. He smirks at her, and inserts a finger into her, and she's so tight it scares him, because he knows he's going to hurt her. There's a sharp intake of breath, and when he bends his finger, stroking her, she arches against him and keens.

Haymitch takes a calming breath of his own, going slow. He plunges his finger back in, then adds another, stretching her. She groans low, wiggling her hips at the pressure, and he begins a decent pace, stretching and pushing and can hardly believe the sounds she's making under him. Katniss whimpers and whines, groaning and gasping without restraint at the new onslaught of _feeling, _building up in her until it's unbearable, and she _needs _more.

"_Haymitch._" She gasps pulling on his shoulders. He looks at her and she gazes at him pleadingly, and he seems to understand because he pulls back and raises up to face her, kissing her. He braces an arm beside her head, holding himself up as he positions himself with his free hand. He looks down at her.

"This is going to hurt, sweetheart." He says, not unkindly, but Katniss just laughs slightly, and tugs on his arm.

"Now." She gasps impatiently, and then almost wishes she hadn't. Haymitch pushes into her quickly, breaking past her barrier and sinking in deeply. Katniss gives a high-pitched whine of pain, and he feels her buckle down around him. He nuzzles her neck, and though it's killing him not to move, he stays still as he kisses and soothes her as best he can. He drops a hand down to rub her clit, trying give her some pleasure over the pain. Finally, after what feels like forever to him, she gives her hips an experimentally push against him, prompting him. He gives a shuddering breath and pulls out, slowly sinking back again, and Katniss gasps and whimpers again, but at least this time she feels something_, _something good. Haymitch digs his fingers into the sheet and starts to sweat, and she sees the effort it's costing him to be going so slowly. Katniss lifts her head and kisses his neck , sucking on his skin before whispering in his ear.

"Haymitch, it's okay."

It sets him off, and he plunges into her to the base, causing her to arch more fully against him and cry out. Haymitch wonders how thick the walls are, but that thought is quickly pushed aside.

He doesn't go slow anymore, and with each deep thrust Katniss can feel that little bit of pleasure from the beginning swell and grow, tightening inside her until she feels the pleasure itself might destroy her. She clings to his shoulders, leaving red lines down his back as she digs her nails in, hands unable to find purchase as she pushes against him. She finally settles one hand on his shoulder, her other desperately gripping his hip. Haymitch is panting against her, groaning and whining, and whispering very, _very _un-Haymitch things in her ear that make her blush, even now. Finally, it becomes too much, and she throws back her head as he sinks in again, and that ball inside her explodes like a bomb. Warmth and tingles rock down her body in waves as she writhers under him. He follows her moments after, blowing out a groaning exhale before plunging in once, twice, and a third time, before coming to halt, his hips quivering slightly. Katniss begins to come off her high, body still electric, and hugs him tight to her, arms still around his back. He groans once more as he slides out, using a balled up bit of white at the foot of the bed to whipe himself- and her- off. Katniss sees this and glares, but there's no anger in it.

"You… You said you didn't have a sheet." She pants, and he turns a toothy smirk on her.

"All's fair in love and war?" He offers, and rolls over, pulling her against him. Katniss considers this for a moment, then smiles.

"I love you, too, Haymitch." She says, and he looks at her out of the corner of a half-closed eye.

"I know you do, Honey."

They lay together for a while, then realize the sun is beginning to come up. Cinna and Portia and everyone will be around to wake them up soon, and they decide it wouldn't be a good thing to be found tangled together and naked. There's not much that can be done for the sticky sheets, but the avox aren't going to betray them.

They can't bring themselves to separate to the bed and floor though, and so that's how they're found. Though they're dressed, the intimate, tight embrace they're found sleeping in is enough to make Cinna smirk and Peeta…

Well, Peeta discovered that the walls aren't quite as thick as Haymitch hoped


	4. Deny Me Happiness

Haymitch is forty years old.

Katniss is eighteen.

Her mother doesn't approve, neither does Gale. In fact, all who are aware of their arrangement are quite disgusted, or simply bothered. Mother and Gale put up with it- for Katniss. They try to ignore it- for Katniss. After all, their precious Mockingjay has been through much. They will not hurt her over it.

They will not deny her happiness.

Katniss is happy when she is with Haymitch. At first it was tentative, something they refused to talk about. If they saw each other during the day, they would always pretend to hate each other. Constantly they would sit, arguing and bickering. At night, they would love- intensely and passionately, clinging to each other and refusing to let go. By morning that would change, and they'd instead refuse to meet each other eyes.

It had all changed six months before.

Peeta had come for a visit. No one knows for sure what he'd been thinking. He had never fully recovered from the hijacking. While he could stand near Katniss, even talk to her, he still could not get over his desire to destroy her.

He could not stop hating her.

Katniss had been alone at the time, curled in a ball on her porch. When Peeta had appeared, walking up Victor's Village Road, it had been as if she'd seen the sun shine again. Her face lit up and she jumped to her feet, eyes alight and face flushed. Though Peeta was still halfway down the street, she took off running, her dark hair flying out behind her. He stopped, and when she pounced, throwing her arms around him, Peeta stiffened.

"Peeta!" She had gasped, grinning. How she'd missed him! His beauty and his love, and how he refused to see the world like anyone else. She loved him, and he had finally, finally come back to her.

Peeta still hadn't said anything. His arms had not encircled her. He was trembling slightly, but to his credit, had managed not to shove her away.

"Peeta?" Katniss asked, concerned. She looked up at him, then steps away quickly. His perfect face was distorted. Peeta's eyes were narrowed and cold, and his upper lip had pulled back in a snarling grimace.

"Katniss." He said, stiffly. He hadn't looked at her yet. Katniss felt a strange fear growing inside her.

"Peeta? Come on, Peeta, it's me. Katniss. I love you, Peeta." Katniss pleaded. She reached up and tried to hold his face in her hands. Peeta looked down at her, mouth opening and closing as if to say something.

"This was a bad idea." He said finally. He shrugged off her touch and turned around.

"I'm sorry. Good bye, Katniss." Peeta said gruffly. Katniss stared at him in horror before leaping forward.

"No, no Peeta, you can't go yet. Why did you come? Why'd you come, Peeta?" Katniss cried out. Her hands enclosed around his bicep, but he swung around quickly, his knuckles slamming into the side her face, turning her olive skin dark. Katniss tumbled to the ground, skinning her knees and back.

Peeta stood above her, arms shaking. Katniss stared up at him in horror, reaching up to touch her face.

"Peeta?" She whispered, shocked. He had tried to strangle her once, but hadn't hurt her since. He had, she thought, learned to control it better.

Peeta took a deep breath, running a hand through his blonde hair. He gazed at her with wide, confused eyes. She watched the play of emotions cross his face- pain, confusion, hate, guilt, and regret. There was no love there.

"I am sorry, Katniss." Peeta apologized. "I thought..." He didn't finish the sentence.

"You thought what?" Katniss snapped. She pulled herself to her feet, cheek and eye already swelling.

"I thought if I saw you again... I thought maybe it had changed." Peeta replied, quietly. Katniss scowled at him.

"You can change it, you bastard, you just don't want to!" She snarled, eyes glistening. Peeta stared at her, then shook his head and turned away.

"Good bye."

That time, Katniss hadn't stopped him. She had stood there, breathing heavily, then returned to her house, not noticing the pair of gray eyes that watched her from across the road.

For the first time in a long time, she called her mother, and cried most of the night. Her mother did what she could to calm her daughter, but ended up just listening, unable to handle the grief. Finally, Katniss had hung up. She laid in the darkness alone for a long time.

When the downstairs door lock began to turn, Katniss had lifted her head, glaring concerned into the dark. She reached out and grabbed a knife from her bedside table. Heavy foot steps climbed the stairs, and soon a black figure of a man stood in the doorway. She could smell the scent of alcohol and sweat, and something else, distinct to its owner. Katniss relaxed.

_Haymitch._

The black shadow walked closer, then stopped. He was tall, but his shoulders were slumped.

"You gonna' kill me with that, sweetheart?" Haymitch asked, sitting down on the side of her bed. Katniss blinked and set the knife down. Haymitch sighed and leaned over her, pressing his scarred palm against her cheek.

"Peeta..." Katniss said sadly, but she didn't cry. Her head hurt and her eyes were sore. There were no more tears left in her.

"Yeah." Haymitch responded simply, and just like that, Katniss knew he knew. His fingers rubbed the bruise on her cheek softly.

Katniss reached up and pulled him down towards her. Haymitch gave a deep breath, then crawled over her, laying down behind her. He reached out, rather tentatively, to wrap his arms around her. Katniss relaxed and pressed herself against his chest. Haymitch buried his head against her neck, running his fingers in soothing strokes through her hair.

They layed together for a long while, neither speaking. Haymitch did not let go.

Later, when they were both caught in the disoriented place between wake and sleep, Katniss stirred against him.

"Haymitch?" She whispered, slurring slightly in sleepiness. Haymitch nuzzles her jaw slightly.

"Hm?" He hummed, and Katniss bit her lip slightly.

"Don't leave in the morning." She said. Haymitch stiffened slightly, and was at once fully away.

"What?" He asked, though he knew very well what she said. Katniss swallowed, nervous.

"Don't leave in the morning." She repeated. Haymitch closed his eyes in thought.

"You sure?" He asked, and Katniss nodded against him.

"Yeah." She said.

Haymitch smiled, and leaned down to plant a light kiss her neck.

"Okay."

And just like that, everything changed.

From then on, those few people who had returned to District Twelve became aware of their relationship. They still bickered, but they no longer pretended to hate each other. Every morning they would still be together, as they would be every night.

For the first time in a long time, Katniss, and Haymitch, were happy.

Nobody would deny them that.


End file.
